


That Butler, Mine to Keep

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Category: EXO (Band), Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Demons, Eventual Smut, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Jongdae is Grell, Jongin is Abelline, Junmyeon is Ciel, M/M, Yifan is Sebastian, everyone familiar with Kuroshitsuji will know, the noncon isn't explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Junmyeon is back for revenge, with his extraordinary butler in tow. However, his butler is not quite human and wants something from him, something that is not his soul. Then, in the quest for revenge, certain secrets are revealed that Junmyeon never saw coming.





	1. April 1897

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think it would be such a difficult job to finish this story, especially when the prompt combined two of my favourite things: EXO and Black Butler; but life happens and I have managed to finish it only partially. I am forever grateful to the patient and nice mods who allowed me to post the first 2 halves of the fic. The next 2 will be up soon and to the prompter, I hope you like this!
> 
> (Prompt #88  
> Kuroshitsuji!au (Black Butler) Kim Junmyeon seeks revenge for his murdered family and summoned a demon named Kris who would disguise as his butler)

Junmyeon pulls the scarf tighter around his face as the cold sea air hits his face. He grabs the railings of the steamer as he takes the steps down. He hears conversation behind him and he looks over his shoulder to find his butler talking to the steward, convincing the other that he can perfectly carry all of Junmyeon’s thirteen suitcases. Junmyeon rolls his eyes and deeply sighs, which attracts his butler’s attention, who raises his eyes in askance. Junmyeon says aloud, in Mandarin, “Yifan, try to be normal, will you?”

His butler smirks and then turns all apologetic as he agrees for some help. The steward calls for a porter and together, they carry Junmyeon’s expensive suitcases to the equally expensive carriage flanked by two highbred horses waiting for them at the dock. Junmyeon strokes the soft cashmere scarf around his neck, and the ring on his pinkie gleams under the sunlight. He looks down at the sparkling sapphire and his heart throbs in pain for a second. However, the moment dissipates, and he pulls himself forward towards the carriage where his butler and the porter have already put the bags in. Yifan tips the porter handsomely, and Junmyeon shakes his head at that. He doesn’t miss the surprised look he gives to Junmyeon’s appearance. It is sort of unnerving, Junmyeon supposes, with his Western clothes and the eyepatch over his right eye—so he doesn’t blame the man. He gets into the carriage while Yifan takes the reins.

They drive from the dock to the city in silence. Junmyeon doesn’t look out of the windows, because he is not interested in knowing how his old city looks like. He has tried hard to erase the pain and suffering he had to endure here two years ago. The drive is long, nearly an hour, and somewhere along the way, Junmyeon falls asleep.

He wakes up with a jerk when the carriage stops. He waits for Yifan to open the door, and his butler is all smiles as he bows, “Welcome home, master.”

Junmyeon keeps his face impassive as he steps down, ignoring Yifan’s offered hand. He looks up at the house in front of them, and he raises an eyebrow. His eyebrow quirks up as his lower lip juts out, his head tilted as he regards the house. A bricked pathway leads from the main gate to the house, each side of the path lined by small shrubs. The house is Neo Gothic with an arched porch and pillars dotting the second storey. The cold autumn sky matches quite well with the grey tiles on the roof. He unwraps part of his scarf and asks, “So, who did you kill to get this?”

Yifan chuckles as he removes each piece of luggage from the carriage. “I didn’t have to kill anyone master, just used my terribly efficient convincing powers.”

Junmyeon snorts; he knows all about Yifan’s “convincing powers”. An old man with small, round spectacles and dressed in a hanbok walks out of the house, and his wrinkled face brightens up in a smile as he bows at Junmyeon, who recognises him instantly. He doesn’t wonder how Yifan found him, but he is glad he did as he greets the man, “Jungsuk!”

Jungsuk clasps his young master’s hands, and his eyes swim in tears as he says, “I never thought I would see you again.”

Junmyeon smiles, “Neither did I. It is good to see you.”

“Same young master,” Jungsuk bows his head. He looks up and jerks his head towards Yifan’s direction, “When your butler sought me out and told about you, I refused to believe you were even alive, but I am so happy to see that you are!”

Junmyeon presses the man’s hands warmly. Jungsuk then quickly calls out more servants, and two men and one girl come out of the house. Yifan comes forward to introduce them all. He points at the first manservant, who has blue eyes and blond hair, and it doesn’t take Junmyeon too long to figure out he is Russian. “This is Ivan,” Yifan says. “He is the cook.”

“Nice to meet you master Kim!” he enthusiastically greets him in perfect Korean as he bows. When he straightens up, he finds Junmyeon looking at him in mild surprise. Ivan flushes slightly as he scratches the back of his head. “I have stayed here for a long time master.”

Yifan moves on to the next man, rather young, who is Korean with friendly, round eyes and messy bangs covering his forehead. He bows as Yifan says, “This is Haechan, our gardener.”

“Welcome home master,” Haechan greets, almost trembling in nervousness.

Lastly, the one female servant steps forward with a deep bow. Yifan introduces her, “And this is Hyeri, our maid.”

Hyeri looks up and bows again as she steps back, but the heel of her shoe gets caught on a crack, and she trips back. But Yifan is already there, catching her. Hyeri realises she hasn’t hit the ground, and when she understands Yifan had saved her, her face turns the darkest shade of red as she fumbles, “Thank, thank you Mr Wu.”

Yifan smiles, a bit lopsided with his usual charm thrown in it (Junmyeon groans under his breath), “Not a problem Hyeri.” He straightens her, and her hands are now shaking, which are placed on his forearms. “Be careful.”

Jungsuk chuckles, “Hyeri is quite clumsy young master.”

Junmyeon smiles, tightly, at Yifan mostly, “I see.”

 

It is night time, and Junmyeon is getting ready for bed when Yifan enters without knocking. Junmyeon grumbles as he starts buttoning his nightshirt, “You are supposed to knock Yifan, that’s how human butlers work.”

Yifan shrugs, not the least apologetic. He walks closer to Junmyeon and pushes the latter’s hands away and starts buttoning his shirt. “Human butlers also help their masters dress, don’t they?”

Junmyeon inhales deeply. “I can dress myself.”

Yifan smirks as he grabs Junmyeon’s collar and pulls him close. He watches Junmyeon’s eye widen, his breath quicken, and hears his heart fasten. He looks into his master’s widened eye and he sees how there are spots of red on his cheeks. His master is deliciously distracting with his pale skin, his almond-shaped eyes and his supple lips. He leans forward and noses under Junmyeon’s ear as he whispers, “I know for a fact that human butlers even help their masters when they bathe.”

Yifan can hear Junmyeon’s pulse thudding and the natural scent of his skin amplifies half in fear and half in arousal. Two years of being around him, Yifan knows everything he can know about him. So, he expects Junmyeon to shove him away, which he does, with his face flushed and his chest heaving. He hisses, “Do you always play with your food Yifan?”

Yifan smiles as he licks his lips. “Only when it is this delicious.”

Junmyeon is trying to get his breath back to normal as he shakes his head. “Good night Yifan, wake me up at seven tomorrow.”

Yifan sighs, but not in earnest as he bows. “Yes, master.” However, he doesn’t heed Junmyeon’s dismissal as he raises his hands to unclasp the eyepatch. The leather contraption is removed and Junmyeon’s other eye, coloured a deep violet is exposed. Yifan sees the Faustian mark on it and he smirks as he steps back. He puts the eyepatch on the vanity and bows again, “Good night master.”

Junmyeon watches Yifan glide out of the room, and he crumples on the bed. Yifan has been teasing him since day one, but lately, his teasing is increasing in frequency and intensity. Junmyeon knows the butler cannot wait for they day their contract finally ends and he gets to devour Junmyeon’s soul.

Junmyeon lies down on the bed and pulls the covers over himself as he shivers. Lately, he cannot lie to himself that Yifan’s proximity isn’t bothering him anymore. The man might not be human, but damn if he hasn’t chosen the most ridiculously sinful appearance to live among humans. Junmyeon buries his face into the pillow and groans. Damn that demon.

He turns on his back and sighs again. He needed Yifan then, and he needs him now, especially when he is back in Korea again. He clenches his fist, the bedsheet bunching under his grip as he lets a few hot, angry tears roll down his cheeks. Whoever killed his parents two years ago are going to pay, he will make sure of that.

 

The arrival of Kim Junmyeon to Korea spread fast and soon, and within forty-eight hours, Junmyeon had government officials from every rank sending him messages, welcoming him back. Junmyeon has all their missives spread on his table as he glares at them, wondering which one was responsible for what happened to him and his parents in the October of 1895 when Japanese officials invaded their home, killed his mother in front of his eyes and then took him and his father away to prison. Everyone knew his father died in incarceration, his lung disease exacerbated, and he succumbed to it, but no one knew about Junmyeon’s fate. Junmyeon clenches his jaw when flashes of his imprisonment resurface in his memory, but he pushes them back, especially when he hears someone knock on his door.

Junmyeon brusquely says, “Come in.” Yifan steps inside and bows, which makes Junmyeon raise his eyebrow. But his surprise doesn’t end there; Yifan is actually dressed in full British butler garb—complete with a tailcoat and white gloves. He also has pushed his midnight black hair back and Junmyeon hates himself as he admits that it does make the demon look more handsome. He straightens up and his lips twist in a smirk, “Where did you get that from?”

“Good morning master,” Yifan bows again, and when he straightens up, he fixes his bowtie with a smirk on his face. “I found a very _willing_ tailor overnight master.”

Junmyeon curbs the urge to roll his eyes and sigh. He doesn’t need to ask Yifan how he coaxed this tailor, he also doesn’t need to know. He supposes his displeasure is obvious on his face because Yifan’s smirk just increases and it is downright lewd now. Junmyeon shakes his head and bows his head to pick up a particular invite. He throws it towards Yifan, who catches it without blinking his eyes. The demon catches it and opens it to read it out loud, “The House of Gong invites you tonight for a dinner at our humble premises. We hope to have your graceful presence and celebrate your miraculous comeback.” Yifan snorts, “This reads like they want to make sure you are really you.”

Junmyeon leans on the desk and says, “I need you to go look this House of Gong up, as far as I remember, the patriarch of the family was my father’s ally. I am thinking of gracing my presence at this party. Return by six, I want to be there by eight or nine.”

“As you wish, master,” Yifan bows again and his smirk is still in place. Junmyeon realises with a jolt that Yifan is just mocking him, but he doesn’t react to it, except for the small sneer as he dismisses Yifan with a wave. The butler leaves without making even a sound.

Obnoxious, Junmyeon thinks, but he needs the demon, and the demon needs him. They are both ends to their means, and it’s all a deal anyway. Junmyeon looks down on the other letters on his table; another one catches his eye.

He picks up the letter and his jaw clenches. He recognises the seal, it is from a specific person in the Japanese army, a vaguely known name he maybe had heard a few times when he was in that place. A low shudder passes through his spine as he remembers that godawful place. Suddenly, he smiles—did Yifan hear him only because he remembers thinking how god had left the day he was pulled from his prison and put on the table to be cut open and killed to satiate a power that Junmyeon didn't believe in before?

There is another knock on the door and Yifan returns with Hyeri in tow, who is pushing a trolley. The maid stiffens when Junmyeon looks at her, but when Yifan lightly pats her back, she straightens herself and throwing a small smile on her face, rolls the trolley laden with Junmyeon’s breakfast and morning tea further in. Junmyeon frowns at Yifan, showing his obvious displeasure at Yifan’s slight flirtatious way of dealing with the maid. Yifan catches his eye and smiles back, his eyes hinting a challenge Junmyeon doesn’t want to take. He looks away and stands up to go gaze out of the window.

Junmyeon hears Yifan dismissing Hyeri and he hears the butler coming closer. Junmyeon turns around and almost crashes into Yifan and gets bathed by hot tea, but due to Yifan’s supernatural reflexes, Junmyeon is saved from the tea and from falling backwards by the demon himself. Except, they are too close now; Yifan has his one arm around Junmyeon’s waist and his other hand has the teacup and saucer on the palm, not a drop of liquid anywhere.

Yifan places the teacup on the table and Junmyeon has to push himself away with a low groan, “Stop doing that!”

Yifan is the very picture of innocence as he turns the corners of his lips down and backs away, hands crossed behind his back. He tilts his head to one side and a few strands of hair fall into his eyes, which definitely glows red for a second. “Me?” the demon points at himself, his eyes wide. “I am just trying to protect my master.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes and tries to forget how it felt for the brief second when he was pressed against Yifan’s chest. “Leave and return as fast as you can. I want you to go with me to the party.”

Yifan leaves again, and Junmyeon waits till he is gone for sure to clutch his hair and groan under his breath. He sits back down on his chair and picks up the teacup filled with Earl Grey and wonders why Yifan has taken to teasing him so much. It makes no sense.

 

Yifan is perched atop the highest tree in the Gong grounds watching the servants mill around and get all the decorations in place. Suddenly, he feels another presence behind him and he has the suppress the groan when he finds the most annoying reaper he had ever met perched on the branch above him.

“Is this the only way I will be able to top you?” the short red-haired reaper asks as he grins down at Yifan.

Yifan rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Go away Jongdae.”

The reaper hops down on the branch Yifan is sitting on and Yifan wishes he would fall, but he doesn’t. “Funny meeting you here! What do demons got to do with parties?”

“Funny—wait,” Yifan suddenly realises as he narrows his eyes up at Jongdae. “Why are _you_ here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jongdae grins, his sharp canines catching the sunlight, “I am a reaper after all.”

“Who is going to die?” Yifan asks as he gets to his feet, now interested.

“Not just a who my darling,” Jongdae closes in and Yifan glares. “Many whos, I would give you a free soul, or two, to feast on, if you just gave me a kiss.” The reaper even pouts, making kissy faces and Yifan backs away, shuddering a little. As a demon, there is very little Yifan is truly terrified of, and the red-haired reaper is one of them.

Ever since the reaper and Yifan ran into each other at the last massacre Yifan caused on his master’s behest, Jongdae had developed a strange fascination with him, though he did try to kill Yifan because reapers and demons are known enemies. Souls are important business, for both demons and reapers; demons need souls for sustenance while reapers need it to keep balance between life and death. Yifan had no interest in consuming other souls since he got contracted to Junmyeon though. But then Jongdae had deemed Yifan “too sexy” to die and didn’t kill him. However, he soon started showing up every now and then, or whenever Yifan had caused a death, and had taken to harassing Yifan at every opportunity. While Yifan was initially gladdened he didn’t have to face the reaper’s scythe, which is one of the few things that can kill demons, he is not so sure death wasn’t better than this constant annoyance.

When Jongdae sees his advances getting rebuffed once again, he pouts and jumps away to another branch to sulk. Yifan heaves a sigh of relief and gets back to observing, and he is now looking even more closely after what Jongdae let him know. So, there would be death tonight. He wonders who it might be…

His lips curve into a smile, tonight is going to be quite eventful then.

 

Junmyeon is pacing in his room when Yifan emerges from the bathroom. The butler bows and with a flourish, waves a hand towards the bathroom, “Your bath is ready master.” Junmyeon chucks the house robe he was wearing and hands it to Yifan, who grins, “Would you need my help, master?”

Junmyeon scowls and marches into the bathroom in his undershirt and pyjamas, making sure to lock the door behind him, even though he knows a locked door is nothing to Yifan. However, he appreciates the bath Yifan made for him. He can smell the lavender oil and the water looks inviting. He quickly undresses and gets inside the tub, and sighs as his muscles relax and he sinks in further. He really missed luxuries like this when he was hiding away in remote rural places, or in the prison.

After he’s done soaking, he heads over to the vanity, where he finds only a robe and a bottle of scented lotion. Lavender again, he wonders what Yifan is up to with his choice of toiletry products. He lathers on the product and drapes the rather soft, comfortable robe and steps out. He finds Yifan in front of the huge closet choosing neckties. Junmyeon grumbles, “Why didn’t you put my clothes inside?”

Yifan turns his head and his eyebrows rise up his forehead as he grins, “A true butler helps his master dress.” Then, Yifan looks properly at Junmyeon—at the wet hair dripping into his mismatched eyes, the pale skin flushed a delicious shade of pink, and the lavender is heavy, and Yifan wants to do something entirely salacious, just to rile Junmyeon up more and get the _other_ thing he has been hungry for a while.

Junmyeon instantly reaches to close the small gap in the front of the robe when he notes how Yifan is raking his gaze all over him. A strange shiver passes through him, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe when Yifan inches closer, his steps measured and Junmyeon realises he is rooted on spot, and he doesn’t even want to really do anything about it. When Yifan is close enough, he puts his hand over Junmyeon’s and the latter finally moves, with a low hiss of, “What do you think you are doing you demon?”

But Yifan doesn’t relent, not entirely. He pulls Junmyeon close and tilts his head to the side so he could nose along Junmyeon’s neck. Junmyeon feels his knees wobble when he feels Yifan’s heavy breathing along his skin. It sends heat flooding his veins and Junmyeon wonders why that is happening. Meanwhile, Yifan murmurs, his voice raspy and something dark is edged in it, “Mmm, you smell good, so good.”

Junmyeon inhales deeply and pushes Yifan off himself, and it takes a lot of effort since the demon is stronger than him. Yifan, however, pulls back and the wolfish grin is back on his face. Junmyeon growls, “Leave me alone! I can dress myself.”

“As you say, my master,” Yifan says, and he doesn’t look the least apologetic as he leaves the room.

Junmyeon quickly dresses and puts on his eye patch. He combs his hair back and pus on his heirloom sapphire ring. He leaves the room and finds Haechan waiting for him. Haechan shows him to the stables, where he helps Junmyeon get inside the carriage. As soon as Haechan leaves, Yifan shows up and smirks as he gives Junmyeon a once over. Junmyeon feels warm at the intense gaze and shifts in his seat. “What?” he asks roughly.

“Nothing master,” Yifan shakes his head as he reaches forward and straightens Junmyeon’s tie. “Your tie’s crooked.”

Junmyeon moves back into the plush velvet seats and pretends he didn’t feel Yifan’s fingers lightly brushing his neck. Yifan thankfully leaves him alone and he hears the horses neigh as the carriage jerks forward into movement.

Yifan smiles as he coaxes the horses to move; his master does look good in the rich black suit he pulled out for him, and the jewel blue tie looks sublime in contrast to the white shirt. Yifan fists his hands as he remembers how much he _wanted_ when Junmyeon exited the bath. He wonders how long his control is going to last. And how long would it be, when he is aware that Junmyeon feels the want, the pull too. He can hear Junmyeon’s heart, smell his arousal, so he knows the human isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be. One of these days, Junmyeon _will_ crumble, and Yifan knows it won’t be too long.

 

The carriage pulls into the gravel driveway, and Junmyeon takes a deep, deep breath. He is going to meet some familiar people who thought he was dead for good. He remembers some of them being good to him and his family, but right now he knows he cannot trust anymore, no matter how he remembered them all those years ago. But, he supposes he has nothing to worry about since trusting people hasn’t come easy to him since he watched his mother getting assassinated in front of his eyes.

As _that_ memory tries to push up through the other myriad traumatising memories, Junmyeon finds his heart beating too loudly, and he can feel the cold sweat breaking out on his nape. Suddenly, the door to the carriage opens and he is about to reprimand whoever did it, but then a large hand covers his small, fisted ones, and when Junmyeon looks up, he finds Yifan looking at him with apathetic eyes. The demon tells him, “You are not the you of those days. You are Lord Kim Junmyeon and you will behave as such. Now, come on, a party in your honour awaits.”

This is also another reason why Junmyeon has to keep Yifan around—the demon is always blunt and harsh and tells him exactly what he needs to hear whenever Junmyeon needs a reminder. Junmyeon nods his head and Yifan removes his hand, only to step back and bow his head, his hand out, palms up as he says, “My lord?”

Junmyeon shakes himself, and the moroseness off, as he squares his shoulder and steps down the carriage with Yifan’s assistance. He can do this, he can face the people in this party, each of whom could be the potential murderers of his parents.

The house is decked up with lanterns of every size and shape, dotting from the driveway to the main entrance. There are many people descending from carriages and making their way into the house. Junmyeon and Yifan join, trailing behind a middle-aged couple. Behind him, he could hear some men murmuring on his Western outfit and lack of hair; Junmyeon smirks. He came here to cause a sensation, and he is halfway there.

They enter the villa, which is a spacious traditional structure and the presence of Japanese officials is concerning and Junmyeon sends a look at Yifan, who shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t know this master, I don’t know what Lord Gong seeks from this crowd.”

Junmyeon hums; he rakes his eyes over the crowd and he is surprised to see a few Russians and Americans here as well. Now Russians aren’t a strange presence in Joseon, but Americans are. He grabs the inside of Yifan’s elbow and drags him to the side. They crouch behind a large vase and Junmyeon whispers, “I also see Americans, find out why they are here.”

Yifan nods and walks off to do his master’s bidding. Junmyeon inhales and squares his shoulders, he can do this, he can mingle with people who could have been the reasons behind his and his family’s imprisonment all those years ago. He walks out from behind the vase and Lord Gong finds him.

The Lord is young, and a newly minted in the long line of nobles tethered to the now-failing Joseon kingdom. The presence of so many foreigners obviously signify that Gong is trying to gain goodwill from the current masters of Joseon in the absence of the king and his son. Gong is all smiles as he bows, “I am grateful to make you acquaintance Lord Kim. I have heard much about you, it is finally nice to know you.”

Junmyeon bows back and gives Gong a tight-lipped smile. They fall into conversation about the missing monarch and if King Gojong and Crown Prince Sunjong would ever return to their country. Junmyeon feels someone standing behind him and he looks over to find Yifan bowing at Gong. Junmyeon clears his throat, “Oh, this is my butler, Yifan, I keep him around due to my handicap.” He grins as he points at his eyepatch. Gong nods, a sympathetic look in his eyes. He makes gentle enquiries about Junmyeon’s condition, and the latter tries his best to dodge them.

Suddenly, loud sounds break through the light murmuring in the room and they turn around to find a few Japanese and Russian men shouting at each other in their respective languages. Junmyeon feels Yifan grabbing his elbow and his breath tickling his ears as the butler says, “I have a report to make, this way master.”

They find a nook with a vantage view over the room and Yifan quickly relays, “The missing king is back in town master.”

Junmyeon gasps as he looks over his shoulder, the shouting having rose in credence. He notes the Americans standing at a corner and calmly watching the fighting unfold. Soon, fists rain down and Junmyeon is half afraid there may be blood. He looks back at Yifan and says, “If the king is back, then that means I may finally get some answers.”

Yifan nods, “But right now, we need to go, death hangs heavy here.”

Junmyeon frowns, a question on the tip of his tongue when he sees a familiar face peering over the balconies. “The reaper is here?”

Yifan doesn’t follow Junmyeon’s line of vision as he sighs. He wants to leave before Jongdae finds him. “Let us go, master.”

Junmyeon cannot inch another word as Yifan drags him outside through a back entrance. As they leave, he hears a loud crash. He doesn’t to ask as Yifan puts his hands under his knees and pulls him up. Junmyeon yelps as he suddenly finds himself off the ground and presses against the demon, who smells far too good for Junmyeon’s sanity. He feels the air rushing against his ears as the demon picks up speed and they get to the back of the house, at the stables where their carriages await.

Yifan gently places Junmyeon inside and the latter huffs, “I can walk.”

Yifan grins, “Well, you will never catch up with me at your speed, master.”

“Butlers are never _this_ rude to their masters.” Junmyeon crosses his arms and purses his lips. He hates whenever he is too close to Yifan; it warrants dangerous thoughts and he has to remind himself that to Yifan he is just sustenance.

Junmyeon nearly squeaks when he finds Yifan closing in on him. Their noses are almost touching and Junmyeon shivers when he finds Yifan’s eyes—now a bright red—bore into him. He feels long fingers touch his chin and he swallows as a keen shiver passes through his body. He wonders what Yifan is going to do next when the loud report of a gun tears through the night air and Yifan jerks back with a low, “We need to leave.”

 

The next morning, Jungsuk is the one to give Junmyeon the news.

“Did you hear my lord? Lord Gong is dead, along with a few others from last night’s altercation. The Russians and Japanese fought and the collateral damage is bad. It is good you left early.” Jungsuk finishes pouring Junmyeon’s tea and as he places the small bowl of sugar on the table, he resumes, “Also, lord, king Gojong and his son, the crown prince are back in Joseon.”

Yifan enters the room with a soft knock and Junmyeon sees another person following him. Jungsuk bows as he lets himself out of the room. The stranger, dressed traditionally and with a man bun, is dark skinned and handsome as he bows and addresses, “Good morning Lord Kim. I am sorry to see you without an appointment, but this was important. I am Kim Jongin from the Eulmi army, you may remember us.”

Junmyeon gasps when he realises he does remember. The anti-Japanese sentimentalists, who stood by the queen’s decision to get closer to the Russians three years ago. He gets to his feet and he finds his knees wobbling slightly as he asks, “What do you want, and where were you when they arrested the queen?”

Jongin hangs his head, and he seems ashamed as he admits, “We were only a small, temporary army—we still are. But King Gojong is back in Joseon and we have been hearing some strange things.”

It was well-known in their house that both his parents were huge supporters of Queen Min and her decision to side with the Russians when the Japanese started meddling in Korean affairs. And Junmyeon knows the death of the queen is why he and his family had to face such tragedy. The Eulmi armies also were supposed to protect their family, but they failed, and for a second, Junmyeon sees red and a part of him wants to pick up the heavy paperweight on his table and fling it at Jongin, but he doesn’t. He sits down again and says in a clipped tone, “Take a seat Kim Jongin, and tell me what you want from me exactly.”


	2. October 1895

At eighteen, Junmyeon feels mighty accomplished. He speaks four languages, his academic results have been untouchable for the last three years and he hopes to get a diplomatic position soon, like his father. But then, the winds changed against his favour, and his life got uprooted.

It all started when his mother—already a shadowy figure in his life who flitted in and out—returned from the capital and locked herself with his father in the latter’s office. Junmyeon was never explained what his mother’s connection was with the queen but right then, as he stood outside the office, hearing his parents fight, he hears some names mentioned—Queen Min and King Gojong mostly. He didn’t understand anything.

His mother stayed home for a week and Junmyeon noticed guards around his house. When he asked Jungsuk about them, he received no answers, only a sympathetic smile and a benevolent pat on his back. Then, one night, some people broke in their home, pulled everyone from their beds and dragged them to the main hall. Junmyeon was scared and he tried fighting but a solid punch almost knocked him out, but he was conscious enough to see a man slit his mother’s throat, ear to ear. He screamed when he sees the blood gush out of his mother’s body. Then, darkness descends as he feels something hard and metallic hit the back of his head.

When Junmyeon wakes up, the first thing he sees is his father hunched over him. “Junmyeon, Junmyeon? Are you awake?”

Junmyeon sits up, pain shoots from the back of his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut. He feels his own blood, wet and sticky on his nape and he raises a hand to touch his wound. He opens his eyes again and asks, his voice dry and raspy, “Where are we? Where is mother?”

His father’s face falls as he says, “They killed her Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon remembers, the blood, the way his mother’s body swayed, lifeless before falling on the floor. He gasps and grabs his father’s elbows, “No!”

His father nods his head, his own face twisted in pain as tears roll down his face. “They killed her, they killed her…”

“Is it because of her friendship with the queen?” Junmyeon asks, suddenly filled with rage for the woman he had never met. His father says nothing as he looks at Junmyeon, his eyes sad and Junmyeon can see the regret but he doesn’t understand it. Instead of providing an answer, his father draws him into his arms and runs his fingers through his hair. Junmyeon grabs the back of his father’s tunic and gazes around the small room lit by a solitary lamp nestled on a shelf in the corner. “Appa, are we prisoners now?”

His father nods his head. “I am so sorry. I couldn’t protect you or your mother.” He pulls back and grabs Junmyeon’s hands. “You will probably not see me again, and I can already feel my body weakening. You have to remember, we loved you, your mother and I.”

At his father’s words, Junmyeon breaks. His father smiles through his tears and Junmyeon sobs, his entire body shaking. He screams for his mother, for his father and for himself.

 

The days melted into one another, and after his father died, Junmyeon reckons a month had passed and he is still imprisoned. Then, one day, the door to his prison opened and a few men enter. By now, Junmyeon had weakened considerably. He was getting served only one meal a day and he had lost a lot of weight. So, it isn’t too hard for the men to drag him to his feet and push him out of the room. But this weakness was not only of the body but also of the mind. His confinement after his father’s death was solitary; there wasn’t even a single person to talk to or ask where he was, or what was supposed to happen to him. Junmyeon, by then, had made up his mind that he was to languish there, alone and with his own thoughts tormenting him day in and day out.

The sudden change in his routine both alarms him and astonishes him. He doesn’t protest or ask questions as the men drag him down a corridor. For the first time in days he notices he is underground, probably in a basement. They pull him up stairs and it’s a house, probably a mansion and they are in a hall. He looks at the men supporting him, and he realises they are Japanese, as determined from the uniform they are wearing.

The hall is large and dark, but he can spot the faint shapes of furniture. Someone lights a candle and it fills the space with very little light. More footsteps abound and through the darkness, two figures emerge—an elderly woman and another man, decked in full military regalia. Junmyeon’s alarm further increases when the newcomer grins at him and in Japanese, says, “Hello, Mr Kim, or should I call you Lord Kim with the passing of your father?”

Junmyeon doesn’t answer him, his brain is still whirring with possibilities. When the man realises Junmyeon is not going to answer him anytime soon, he comes closer and bows. “My condolences, I am General Taniyama and this is,” he waves to the woman beside him, “Saeba Kaori, she will be escorting you to a room where you can freshen up. Please follow her, and,” he straightens up and his genial gaze is replaced by something darker, more dangerous, “I expect you to know you cannot do anything funny, like trying to escape. It will lead to terrible things, really terrible things that I do not want to do to you.”

Junmyeon swallows; he got the general’s message. The two men who had pulled him from his prison step back and the woman gestures him to follow her. The thought of escape does pass through his mind, but then he remembers he doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know this house, he has no chance of escaping if he doesn’t know the terrain itself. So, he mutely follows the woman and she leads him up a narrow flight of stairs tucked in the corner of the hall.

The stairs lead to a dimly lit corridor and Junmyeon feels plush carpet under his bare feet. He is surprised at it, is this one of those Western houses in Joseon? Then another thought plagues him—is he even in Joseon still? How is he to know that his captors haven’t whisked him off across the sea and onto their land? Or on some other obscure island he had seen on maps that dot the sea in and around India, or Ceylon, or Burma?

His panic doesn’t subside, and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with his situation when Kaori stops in front of a door and pushes it open. Junmyeon peeks in and finds it a bedroom of sorts with only a mattress on the floor, a cabinet and a floor-length mirror. He steps inside and the woman says in hushed Japanese, “Take off your clothes, there is a bath ready for you here.” She points at a door behind her and Junmyeon opens his mouth to ask why and what is going on, but she anticipates him and presses a finger to her mouth. Her eyes look sad and for half a second Junmyeon thinks she is apologising to him.

Junmyeon ducks in the room beside, which can hardly be called a bathroom, but it is still better than the latrine he had to use in the basement. A single tub and a drain embedded in the floor is all there is to it. He closes the door and finds towels hanging from the hook behind it. He strips and washes himself; to his relief, his captors left him soap and he doesn’t question it because he is simply glad to feel fresh and clean again. He also finds a shaving kit and tries his best to shave himself without cutting since there are no mirrors to guide him.

He wraps a towel around his waist and steps out, and finds Kaori folding clothes and placing them on the bed. Junmyeon steps in front of the mirror and he bites back a gasp when he sees himself. His eyes and cheeks look sunken in, his ribs stick out and his arms are so thin, they look skeletal. His hip bones jut out and he already had slim legs, but now they look so breakable, like someone can gently push him and he can break a few bones.

Kaori steps in front of him and points at a small bottle in her palm. Junmyeon takes it and through her gestures, he understands he needs to put whatever is inside the bottle all over his body. She turns her back to him to give him privacy as he tugs the towel off and rubs the strange creamy and oily concoction all over his body. The tips of his fingers scratch his skin, having received no form of hydration in weeks; Junmyeon grimaces at the sensation but the soothing smell of flowers and tea tree oil lulls him into a brief peace even though his mind in buzzing with answers to this rather strange situation.

Kaori speaks up just as Junmyeon is done massaging his ankles, “Wear those clothes on the bed.”

Junmyeon puts the bottle on the ground and picks up the cloth, which turns out to be a yukata of sorts. He had seen them in pictures, so in essence he knows what it is, he, however, doesn’t know how to wear it. He clears his throat and says, “I, I don’t know how…”

Kaori turns around with a sigh and Junmyeon feels his cheeks flaming in embarrassment, however she pays no heed to his nakedness as she gets about putting the garment over his frame. She puts on a black cotton undergarment of sorts before reaching for the yukata and the belt, which Junmyeon faintly recalls is called an obi. It is of black cotton with threads of shimmering gold interwoven in stripes. Kaori puts it on him expertly and she is done before Junmyeon can fathom. He has by now gathered enough courage and he dares, “What is going on?”

Kaori shakes her head again as she tightens the obi. A firm knock on the door startles them both and the door opens to another woman and a burly man whose head easily brushes against the doorframe. Junmyeon swallows as fear settles in his gut anew. The woman is all smiles as she comes forward, dismissing Kaori, who bows and leaves, which leaves Junmyeon feeling more petrified and confused.

The woman pushes him down on the bed and the man closes the door, crosses his arms and stands guard over it. Junmyeon next finds his wet hair combed and pulled till the woman styles it in a bun. He feels tears springing into his eyes at the harsh treatment but he bites down on his lips to stop himself from sobbing. When she is done, the man grabs Junmyeon off the bed like he weighs nothing and pulls him to his feet. Then, to Junmyeon’s horror, the woman parts his yukata and puts her hand on his groin.

Junmyeon tries to push her hand out but the man pulls his hand to his back and keeps them clasped there, slightly twisting them. Tears roll down his cheek when the woman further uses her fingers to trace a line between his butt-cheeks. Her nails are long and pointy and they hurt his sensitive skin, and he cries out, “Stop! Please!”

The man tightens his hold around Junmyeon and the latter starts thrashing about. The woman pulls out her hand and grins up at the man, “Virgin. He will be well-liked, come on!”

By now, Junmyeon had developed an idea about what was to come. He had heard rumours about such things, events attended by rich people where young men and women like him would go on auction. He honestly believed they were rumours, but now as he dragged out of the room and down a corridor, he realises the rumours were true.

They drag him down some more stairs, and Junmyeon is tired. The lack of nutrition and the emotional upheaval has left him with little fight. He is pushed into a room and he sees he is not alone; a couple more boys and girls are cowered in all corners of the room, all dressed similarly like him. He wants to ask them, but he doesn’t; he can see it in their faces that they are well aware as to their fate and they have accepted it. Junmyeon wonders if he must as well…

No, he cannot! He has to get out of here, he has to save himself. He feels his flesh still crawling at the memory of those fingernails on him. He turns around and tries the door, which is locked, and he knew it, but he twists the knob, knocks his shoulder against it. But the door is strong, and he knows he can’t keep it up. His shoulder starts hurting and he ceases his endeavour. He slides down the door, knocking his head on the wood and cries.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, slumped against the door. His tears have dried and he feels lost. He moves away from the door and leans back on the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest. The others look at him, their eyes dead and silent. The door opens after a while and the burly man enters, barking at them in broken Korean to get up and follow him. The captives follow the guy and Junmyeon is last in line. For half a second, he thinks he can make his escape, but then two more people show up and they are bigger than him. He hangs his head and suddenly wishes for death.

They are taken to a big room with a raised platform. The only light in the room is shining on the platform alone and the rest of the room is shrouded in darkness, but Junmyeon can see them, see their shadows and hear their excited murmuring. Junmyeon feels the fear trickling don his spine and freezing his heart.

The auction starts; a loud bell rings and a short man enters the room, bursting with rapid words in Japanese and Korean, mixing them together and it grates on Junmyeon’s ears. Soon, one by one, at each small tinkling of the bell, the boys and the girls get sold off. Junmyeon watches with his heart in his stomach as he remains the last man standing.

The man shouts, “Look at this young man! He’s rather handsome, isn’t he? And a virgin too! Look at the flawless skin, and the pretty, pretty eyes! Come one ladies and gentlemen! Make the right choice!” Junmyeon’s skin boils in disgust, in fear, in utmost repulsion at being described like that. Then, to his horror, someone rings a bell from the crowd, then another, then another, then another…

The man nearly goes insane trying to keep track of the highest bidder. Junmyeon doesn’t look, he trains his gaze on the ground and tries to not cry as the man shouts in joy. Junmyeon feels arms around him again and something sharp pierce his skin, near his nape. He feels like his veins got doused by ice water and his eyelids droop, but he fights to be awake. Soon, another set of arms get a hold of him and push him away from the platform.

 

When Junmyeon awakes, he realises he is in an auditorium of sorts and he is lying on something hard and cold. And he feels cold too, he sits up and notes that he is dressed in a flimsy cotton tunic that barely covers his thighs and his feet are tied to metal rings on the stone table. He looks around and his fear returns, he can’t see, the room is shrouded in darkness and the only source of light is the chandelier over his head. He hears a door opening and the lights get turned on. He gasps and widens his eyes when he sees the room getting filled by people in strange masks and purple robes. They crowd around him and Junmyeon struggles against his bonds. A person in a mask ties his hands and Junmyeon screams, “No! No! Let me go!”

He thrashes, he cries and he screams, but it is like everyone, all of those dozen or so people are deaf and blind, and they don’t hear him. A hand grabs his chin and shoves a clothe in his mouth, like a gag and Junmyeon’s tears don’t stop. The hand then strokes his neck and whispers, loud enough for her friends to hear, “Such a pretty, pretty boy, isn’t he? The master will be pleased, oh yes he will.”

Someone puts their hand on Junmyeon’s leg, slowly moving their hand up his thigh and Junmyeon feels his skin crawl and he shuts his eyes when the owner of the hand asks, his voice almost petulant, “Can’t we have a taste before we give him to the master? He is so pretty.”

Junmyeon starts shivering and he feels cold sweat on his back and neck when more voices join, all asking why they can’t “taste” him either. However, the woman with her hand around his neck hisses, “No! He must remain pure for our lord!”

Then, another pair of hand tears his tunic off and then another pushes him down on the table, their hands bruising his shoulders. Someone starts chanting and someone else starts lighting candles around the table, chanting along. The chandelier gets turned off and then, Junmyeon screams through his gag as he spots a purple-robed person bring out a knife and soon others follow. They each have a knife and they are all chanting in a language he doesn’t recognise. His heart pounds and he finds it difficult to breathe.

Soon, a knife brushes along his skin, right over his hipbone and slices through. The cut isn’t deep, but it still stings and Junmyeon screams. More and more cuts follow, all of them superficial but the pain gets stronger and as Junmyeon thrashes against his bonds, he feels his own blood pooling under his back, sticking to his skin. However, his pain is only to become worse.

The cuts gets deeper and the chanting louder; someone pushes the knife deep into his ankle, someone slices through his thumb, nearly detaching it, someone cuts through a gash on his cheekbones. And all Junmyeon can do is cry and scream, his throat now hurts and his tears won’t stop. But the pain, he feels like his entire body has been set on fire and then he hears it, a voice saying, “Do you think the Devil will be happy with this sacrifice?”

The Devil? So he is a sacrifice? He knew about the devil and the god the Christians prayed to since he had friends from the missionary. He even read the Bible and he knows that the Devil is evil, and God is good. But hasn’t he been wishing for someone to save him and shouldn’t there be a god at his side as they flay him alive.

He doesn’t know which part of his body hasn’t been cut open the blood coats his back thickly and he almost gags at the heavy metallic scent hanging in the air. He is still alive and he doesn’t understand why. Then, someone throws liquid over him, and he recognises the scent—gasoline.

As they throw gasoline over his open wounds, they sting and Junmyeon never knew a human body can hurt this much. But he has been picked open and now he will be burned, to satisfy the evil. Did evil win this time then? Does good not exist when someone like him is in anguish and pain?

Does this mean, he thinks, his mind now numb and his body throbbing, does this mean evil wins? His mother died, his father died and now he will too. He always was good son, a good student, a good friend and yet, he can hear someone lighting a match to call on evil and he wonders, if he should have been praying to someone else.

He screams when the fire catches his skin, so easily and he feels each layer of skin sizzle and in that moment, he wishes, he wishes hard for the devil, he doesn’t wish for god, but he wishes for death, not for him but for everyone else. He wishes for annihilation, not just for him but for the whole world. Did he deserve this end? No, he didn’t. It were others with their lust for power who did this. Someone didn’t like his mother siding with the Queen, so they killed her. Someone wants to kill an innocent being to fulfil their own selfish desires. For a moment Junmyeon wonders what they aim to get by this. Power? Money? What can the devil possibly give them? And he wonders if he could have asked the devil the same when they killed his mother. He wonders if the devil can hear him now. Smoke fills his eyes and lungs and he can smell his own flesh charring.

Then, everything stops, the pain and the fire and Junmyeon sees a dark, shadowy figure hovering over him. He sees the fire has become stationary; it no longer touches him and the people surrounding him are all silent. The shadow figure is just black smoke and Junmyeon can see red slits on what should be the head, and he realises they are eyes and they are looking at him. Junmyeon asks, “Are you the devil?”

The figure laughs, and it is throaty and heavy, almost phlegmy. The figure says, leaning closer, “The devil? No, darling, I am much worse. Now, these fools don’t know anything, but you wished for evil, and no one ever wishes for evil, they only wish the evil to help them achieve rather silly things.”

Junmyeon says, his voice oddly level, “I wished for the evil to help me.”

“Why?”

“Because there is no god to help me, is there? Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

The figure laughs again. “Smart boy, now what do you want?”

“I want you to save me and kill them, then I want to hurt everyone who ever hurt me,” Junmyeon says and he is surprised to find his own voice sounding so distant and monotonous.

The figure says, “You will have to pay a price for what you want.”

A smoky finger reaches forward and touches Junmyeon’s face and the latter simply says, “Name it.”


	3. August 1897

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my look at the nice comments!! T_T  
> I will reply to every one as soon as i am done posting the last part!! I did see the prompter's comment and hello, i died a little, so thank you ;_:

Jongin eyes Yifan from the corner of his eye; Lord Kim’s butler is strange, and the fact that he carries a Chinese name doesn’t sit too well with Jongin. After all, the decisions made by China years ago is why they are in such a situation right now anyway. However, Yifan’s loyalties seem to lie with only one person: Kim Junmyeon. But sometimes, he wonders what sort of loyalty it is exactly, especially when he heard something he had been trying to explain to himself.

_Jongin has news of the king and a rumour that has been bothering him ever since he mentioned working with the lord to some elders in their movement. Junmyeon had agreed to be his ally, and he hopes the lord realises what Jongin hopes to achieve. The other butler (or servant, Jongin isn’t sure), Jungsuk, had shown him down the corridor and he was about to knock the door when a maid called for him. With an apologetic bow, Jungsuk left Jongin on his own and the younger watched him leave. He turns to look at the enormous door to the Lord’s study, and he gulps. Truth to be told, he is intimidated by the last Lord Kim. For someone so young, he is unusually stoic and Jongin hasn’t seen him smile properly yet. And then, there’s that strange man who goes by as the lord’s butler..._

_Kim Junmyeon is the last lord in the family line of the Andong Kims, or so as suspected. The Andong Kims lost their power and influence a long time before Gojong was crowned king. Apparently, Queen Min had close relations with his family, and some people saw this as a direct rebellion against the increasing foreign influence in Korean politics. Jongin needs his help, now that Gojong is back on Korean soil, the Eulmi group members know the very nature of Joseon is going to change, and that it won’t be beneficial for all._

_Jongin raises his fist to knock on the door when he realises it is ajar. He puts a hand on the knob and is about to clear his throat when he hears Junmyeon say, his voice trembling perhaps, “Yifan, enough, I want to know why you are doing this. I don’t remember signing up to be constantly teased by you.”_

_The butler laughs, “Oh my dear master, you will see, but for now, you have guests, I believe.”_

From that day onwards Jongin has been hyper aware of Yifan, because one, no servants speaks to their master like that, and two, what did the Lord mean when he said all those things, and thirdly, _how did the butler know Jongin was already there,_ especially when he arrived earlier than the expected time. The meeting that day was regarding a task Jongin had been sent to do by Junmyeon: to find Gojong’s whereabouts. Jongin had positive reports to give and Junmyeon had dismissed him with half a smile, which looked like it was a herculean effort on his part.

Jongin has noticed; the Lord doesn’t smile, he doesn’t wear their clothes, he keeps his hair shortened, and he also wears full sleeves even if it is hot as hell outside. But largely, Jongin wonders why he wears that eye patch. Does it have to do with the years he was missing from Joseon? He is itching to know, but he is way too afraid to ask because he knows he doesn’t enjoy such an obligation from the aristocrat.

The two years Junmyeon was not seen in public, right after Queen Min’s assassination, is shrouded in mystery. The house in which Junmyeon and his father lived was found abandoned; and no one knew where the son and father had gone to, not even close friends or relatives. Everyone knew the Andong clan had ties to the Queen, so everyone assumed that maybe they had been killed too. Then, two years later, Kim Junmyeon showed up from nowhere. And that too, in short hair, highly Westernised clothes and a Chinese butler of all things.

But Jongin doesn’t care about all that, what he cares is the help he can get from Junmyeon, and the Lord has agreed to help in any way he can, which Jongin appreciates. Today he returns to take the lord and his butler to the last alleged place Gojong’s father, a key suspect in the queen’s assassination, was seen at.

Jongin waits for them at the entrance and he turns around when he hears footsteps. The lord is walking down first and Yifan who had been waiting with him bows, and then sends Jongin a smile. Jongin’s lips twitch and he does smile back, but the sensation of something being wrong with Yifan doesn’t leave him. Even though the butler has been nothing but nice to him, Jongin cannot shake off the feeling that there is something quite not right with him.

They head outside and towards the stables, where their carriage already awaits. Yifan sits on the driver’s seat and the other men sit inside. With a loud crack of a whip, they set off.

Jongin shifts a little on his seat as he fights with his curiosity. He has questions and he wonders if it is even okay to ask them. He clears his throat to attract Junmyeon’s attention and when the man raises an eyebrow in question, Jongin stumbles, “Can I, can I ask you something?” When Junmyeon nods, Jongin continues, his heart pounding a bit harder than before, “Yifan is Chinese, right? Does it not bother you?”

Junmyeon smirks, and he seems condescending to Jongin as he says, “Yifan’s loyalties do not lie anywhere but with me, you need not worry. Nationalism is not a concern for him, never will be.”

Jongin nods; he gazes out of the window, lost in his thoughts before Junmyeon asks, “Tell me, what happened to Heungseon Daewongun? I am afraid I haven’t kept up with news of him and his supporters for quite some time.”

Jongin shakes his head. “No one entirely knows where he went after king Gojong left for his exile. But it has been confirmed that he had a big enough role to play in Queen Min’s assassination.”

Junmyeon rubs his lower lip and nods, “That doesn’t surprise me. The Queen and the king’s father never liked each other anyway—everyone and their mothers knew it.”

“But going so far and allowing the Japanese minister and his trusted lieutenant general to murder the Queen wasn’t right,” Jongin stops and suddenly gasps, “Oh! There was something I later heard but never confirmed!”

“What is it?”

“Some people say Queen Min wasn’t killed in the palace, but somewhere else and then her body was brought to the palace.”

Junmyeon frowns; that is strange. He asks, “But why would someone do that?”

Jongin shakes his head, “I don’t know sir, no one knows, no one can be sure.”

Junmyeon nods and sinks into deep thought. Judging by the deep creases between his eyebrows, Jongin understands he has to maintain silence now. Jongin takes to picking his nails and wondering about whether or not he should ask his family to discuss his engagement with the Jung’s youngest daughter. With the way things are going, he is not too sure about this country’s or his future, maybe he should just listen to his mother and sisters and get married.

Jongin’s thoughts about a certain young Jung gets disrupted when Junmyeon says, “Also, don’t call me sir. Call me Junmyeon, or just Mr Kim if you prefer. Sir makes me feel old and I am not that older than you.”

Jongin feels his face warming up and he bows while sitting. “Okay si—Mr Kim!”

 

Junmyeon watches Jongin scurry down the carriage as fast as he can while Yifan moves aside to help Junmyeon down the same. Junmyeon really doesn’t need assistance and he also doesn’t want to touch Yifan but he is left with no option when the demon leans in close and whispers, “Don’t worry master, you are safe with others around.”

The words are ominous and Junmyeon should be scared, but what he feels is a keen ripple of thrill crawl up his spine and warm his face. Ever since the day in the study, Yifan has become bolder, and ever since then, Junmyeon too has realised that he cannot really hide his reactions to Yifan as the demon knows everything.

_Jongin is supposed to come today with more news about their exiled king. In a way, Gojong’s return shouldn’t really bother Junmyeon, but it has implications. Junmyeon is now extremely sure that his mother had to die because of the Queen, and if the Queen’s death was ordered by the previous king, Gojong’s father, then it is only appropriate that that old man and his cronies had something to do with it._

_The Gong family that lost their heir that night was one of families Heungseon had in his pockets, except a few rebellious family members. Junmyeon was aware that the old man wouldn’t show, and he had already sent Yifan to learn more about Gong’s death._

_Think of the devil, and he shall appear never seemed more apt as the door opened to Yifan, who already has his trademark smirk on despite the air of servitude he gives off. Junmyeon leans against the table and asks, “So, what did you find?”_

_“Plenty, master,” Yifan straightens and comes a bit closer. “Gong’s death was an accident.” When Junmyeon quirks an eyebrow in askance, Yifan explains, “The altercation was a distraction, they were actually after Gong’s uncle, who had been loyal to the queen.”_

_Junmyeon hums, “Someone is hell-bent on finishing off the queen’s supporters, aren’t they?”_

_“Seems like it master.”_

_“Maybe they will come after me too.” Junmyeon looks down at his shoes as he mulls it over. He doesn’t notice Yifan closing in on him. When he looks up, he is startled to see Yifan in his personal space_ again _. He stumbles and leans back, his palms flat on the table surface and gasps, “Yifan!”_

_Yifan juts his lower lip out and grabs Junmyeon’s waist, which surprises the latter. Yifan has never been so forward. He opens his mouth to say something, he is willing to do anything to not feel the warmth of Yifan’s hands seep through the silk of his shirt or acknowledge the way his body is warming up at the proximity. Yifan, however, beats him to it and brings his mouth closer to his ear and whispers, “Don’t worry master, I will never let them get to you. You belong to me.”_

_Junmyeon shivers; there is something dark in the demon’s voice and Junmyeon closes his eyes to take in a huge gulp of air. His heart is pounding as Yifan wraps another arm around him and pulls him close, flush against his chest. Junmyeon, on reflex, raises his arms and puts them on the demon’s shoulders, fully intent to push him away but finds his strength slipping away when Yifan kisses the side of his neck and says, “I know Junmyeon, I know how much you hate me and how much your body wants me instead.”_

_Now_ that, _that has never happened before either. Junmyeon has never felt Yifan’s soft, yet slightly chapped lips on his skin and it shouldn’t affect him the way it did, but it does—he gasps and clutches Yifan’s shoulders as his skin burns and his heart thuds painfully against his chest. The words the demon utters settles in his gut and he gasps again, suddenly feeling embarrassed. But this has to stop, someone has to stop Yifan from planting gentle kisses along the side of his neck, and it has to be him, so he says, his voice sounding weak to his own ears, “Yifan, enough, I want to know why you are doing this. I don’t remember signing up to be constantly teased by you.”_

_The demon laughs, his teeth scraping along Junmyeon’s skin, “Oh my dear master, you will see, but for now, you have guests, I believe.”_

Junmyeon had avoided Yifan since then and had Jungsuk attending him for the last couple of days. Yifan clearly understood the reason behind Junmyeon’s behaviour and whenever their eyes met, the demon would throw an all-knowing smirk his way. Junmyeon would then feel ashamed and aroused at the same time, and he tried to understand why his body kept betraying him like this. The demon is only here to help him exact revenge and then Junmyeon will have to die when he takes his soul. Where is this need for the demon to hold him again like he did in the study that day is coming from?

He glances at Yifan, and to his surprise and dismay, the demon is right there smirking at him, unashamedly even. He clears his throat and walks up to Jongin with a firm, “Where to?”

They are in the outskirts of the city, in a small rural area, currently standing on a dirt path that leads down to a small block of rundown houses. Junmyeon frowns, “I cannot imagine the former king living like this.”

Jongin scoffs, “He can’t exactly rent out a palace now that he knows what he has done and what is to come.”

Yifan joins them and with his hands behind his back, adds, “The winds are indeed changing Mr Kim.” He looks over his shoulder when he feels a presence, a well-known presence. He says, “Mr Kim, please go ahead with master, I will join you promptly.”

Junmyeon sends Yifan a look before he turns around and follows Jongin down the path. Yifan walks backwards as he watches Jongin and Junmyeon walk away, and he waits till they are quite at a distance before jumping back and into the side road that leads to a small, brambly wood. A few seconds ago, he had glimpsed the tail end of a bright end hanbok and he sensed the presence of another supernatural entity; and he knows there is only person who wears red and _is_ a supernatural being—Jongdae, the reaper.

As soon as Yifan steps in, the reaper wearing the bright red hanbok steps forward, feral smile in place. Yifan wants to make a comment about the hair and the outfit clashing but he doesn’t, instead he crosses his arms and glares at the reaper. The reaper doesn’t look too phased by the glare and his grin only seems to grow wider and more annoying.

Jongdae swings his scythe over his shoulder and steps forward, leaning in as Yifan takes a few steps back. Jongdae pouts, “Why do you keep breaking my heart Yifan?” Yifan crosses his arms and doesn’t dignify Jongdae with an answer. That makes the reapers ten times whinier and he even stomps his feet on the ground and waves his hands, “Ah! This is so unfair!”

Yifan rolls his eyes and stifles a groan before he looks down at Jongdae and asks, “Why are you here? Who is going to die this time?”

Jongdae rolls his shoulders and puts the scythe down, putting the blade side on the ground and leans forward by supporting himself on the handle. “Can’t say, but don’t worry it isn’t your precious human.” Jongdae then smirks as he hoods his eyes and smiles, “You really want to get in your human’s pants, don’t you? I can see it, the way your eyes glow and your entire aura shifts when you are around him. Are you rather fond of him?”

Yifan raises an eyebrow in question and puts his hands on his hips as he says, “Demons don’t do fond Jongdae, but,” he rubs his chin as he looks at the direction Junmyeon went, “They do feel desire like everyone else, and I agree, I do desire my _precious_ human.”

Jongdae scowls at the way Yifan’s voice drips with salaciousness at the last sentence. “So, I don’t really get a chance, do I?”

Yifan laughs as he turns around; he cocks his head and then looks over his shoulder as he says, “I am sorry reaper, but humans are far easier to hunt.”

Jongdae whines, “I am an _easy_ reaper to hunt!”

Yifan laughs as he walks away, leaving the reaper thoroughly frustrated. He should join Junmyeon and Jongin anyway. He locates Junmyeon and Jongin easily enough, and the other human is surprised when Yifan shows up in front of the rather derelict house they are gazing up at. He fumbles as he points at Yifan, “I was going to go look for you, how did you know where we were?”

Yifan bows and smirks, “What kind of butler would I be if I didn’t know how to follow my master?”

Junmyeon and Yifan’s eyes meet and Junmyeon shivers when his eyes glow slightly. Jongin inaudibly gasps; did he just see the butler’s eyes glow red? No, he shakes his head, that can’t be, must have been trick of the light. He shakes his head again and points at the house in front of him, “The old king was last seen here. Rumour has it, he’s very sick and Gojong has refused to help him.”

“Gojong grew a spine and took his dead wife’s side then?” Junmyeon scoffs as he pulls his scarf tighter around his neck. Jongin answers him with a shrug.

Suddenly, a breeze picks up, blowing the dried leaves littering the ground at them and Yifan sniffs the air. He blocks his master and Jongin and says, “Someone is dead, or dying in there.”

Jongin is about to ask how the hell did Yifan even know that when Junmyeon curses softly under his breath and rushes inside, Yifan and Jongin close on his tail. The doors to the house are ajar and as Junmyeon bursts through, a man dressed in black jumps down from the balcony. His face is covered and when he sees the intruders blocking his exit, he attacks them.

The man has a dagger in his hand, dripping with blood. He inches towards Junmyeon and before he can even joust forward, Yifan comes in between and using the man’s momentum, grabs the blade and pushes him to the side. The man stumbles and tries to attack Yifan instead, who sidesteps and fisting his hand, punches the man. Jongin winces when he hears the sound of Yifan’s fist meeting the man’s abdomen. The man doubles over and Yifan uses his fingers to press down his neck to render him unconscious. He jerks his head upstairs, “You two go ahead, I will take him back to the carriage, he might be useful.”

Junmyeon and Jongin nod and jog upstairs. They find a narrow corridor with three doors on one side. Junmyeon opens the first while Jongin the second and the latter cries when he makes the discovery. Junmyeon joins Jongin and he gasps when he finds the former king, Heungseon Daewongun, lying in a pool of his own blood, his thin chest heaving, trying to hold on to life. Jongin rushes in and drops to his knees on the old man’s side.

Heungseon looks at Junmyeon and he widens his eyes, raising a shaky finger at the younger. Junmyeon is slightly confused when the old man rasps, “You...you came back, didn’t you? You came to avenge me Min.”

Junmyeon joins Jongin on the dusty floor as he asks, “Min? You mean Queen Min?”

Heungseon whispers as he fights the darkness seeping into the corners of his eyes. He mumbles as he struggles, “You look like your mother.” Junmyeon hears Jongin gasp and when he looks at the younger, the old man ceases breathing.

Jongin gets to his feet and his eyes are flickering around the room, which Junmyeon finds highly suspicious. He grabs Jongin’s shoulders and asks, “You know what that man meant, didn’t you?”

Jongin shakes his head, “No Mr Kim, I only ever heard rumours, I can’t say…”

Junmyeon shouts, “I don’t care! Tell me!”

Jongin shakes in Junmyeon’s grasp; he closes his eyes as he says in a rush, “They say Queen Min gave birth to twins.”

Junmyeon increases his grip on Jongin’s shoulder as he growls, “Queen Min gave birth to one boy who died due to the former king poisoning the child.”

Jongin shakes his head. “No, she gave birth again, but they say it wasn’t Gojong’s…”

Junmyeon starts piecing things together. “What, what happened to those twins?”

Jongin murmurs, “One survived and the other died.” He finally looks up, dares to gaze directly at the lord as he adds, “Mr Kim, they said your mother and Queen Min were the same person.” Junmyeon’s hands fall from Jongin’s shoulders and hangs loose by his side as his head buzzes. “I thought it was a rumour, so I never believed it. But the old king just said…”

Junmyeon feels tears prickling the back of his eyes. This cannot be; he is not Queen Min’s son, because then that raises the question: who was the man he called father for eighteen years? He grabs his hair and he falls to the floor, his knees hitting the floor. All his life, he had wondered why his mother was hardly around, why his father always discouraged him to ask too many questions about the royalty and never allowed him to get anywhere close to the palace.

Footsteps are heard outside and Yifan steps in, who catches Jongdae hovering near the window going through Heungseon’s life reel. Jongin can’t see him obviously, but the reaper sees Yifan and blows him a kiss that makes the demon wince. But he is not here for Jongdae; he quickly pulls Junmyeon to his feet and puts his hands under the human’s knees and carries him. Junmyeon, still in shock, grabs the lapel of Yifan’s tail coat and presses his face into the crook of Yifan’s neck. The demon feels a keen shiver pass through his body when Junmyeon’s hot, wet breath caresses his skin. He can hear the loud drumming of Junmyeon’s heart and he can taste the fear, confusion that covers the human like a shroud. He doesn’t like it.

Yifan glares at Jongin, who gets terribly startled when the butler looks at him with his thick brows furrowed, “Get your people to clean this up and let the world know what happened here, and don’t tell anyone what you know. The less people know about my master’s real heritage, the better it is, do you understand Mr Kim?”

Jongin is rendered speechless as he nods and rushes out of the room. Yifan too, follows, but at a greater speed and doesn’t dally or put Junmyeon in the back as he whips the horses to start running. He ensures Junmyeon is comfortable in his lap as he drives the carriage; his human is still not over the shock of his discovery and Yifan already knows what his next task is going to be.

Junmyeon doesn’t remember the journey back home, his mind too buzzed, too chaotic for him to understand his surroundings. He feels the sharp lash of cold winds against his face and Yifan’s warmth seeping into his skin, and that is all he remembers. Night falls when they return to the mansion and Junmyeon gets down from carriage with Yifan’s help and his knees still feel weak. He pushes Yifan aside, trying to catch his breath. He hears Yifan say, “At least now you know that the queen wasn’t why your mother had to die.”

“Except,” Junmyeon swallows as he finds his vision get blurry, “They killed my mother and the queen.”

Yifan pulls Junmyeon close to him again and tucks him under his chin. Yifan rubs his hands all over Junmyeon’s back and the latter just sinks into his embrace, quietly crying into Yifan’s waistcoat. Yifan doesn’t leave his side, and as they trudge their way inside and up to Junmyeon’s room, Yifan is surprised by his own behaviour. The urge to protect Junmyeon gets stronger and he wonders when he got so intense regarding his human.

Junmyeon doesn’t even fight as Yifan undresses him and rips the eyepatch off. Junmyeon does not have the fight in him to snark at Yifan or push him away as the demon dresses him. Yifan pushes him on the bed with a firm, “Sleep now master, you need it.”

Junmyeon sits down on the bed, but for some strange reason, he doesn’t want Yifan to leave him. So, he reaches out and grabs Yifan’s wrist. The demon gasps a little and when Junmyeon looks up, he sees the surprise in the former’s eyes. Junmyeon mumbles, “Can you, can you stay till I fall asleep?”

Junmyeon thinks Yifan will provide him with a sarcastic comment, but he doesn’t. To his surprise, the demon sits down beside him on the bed and starts caressing the small hairs on his neck. Junmyeon looks at him and smiles, “I didn’t know you could be gentle too demon.”

Yifan smirks, “Just being nice to you master. You had a rough day.”

Junmyeon sighs as he puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder. He needed some contact, he needed someone to be here for him tonight and just let him be. He feels Yifan’s hand wrapping around his shoulder and pulling him close. Junmyeon wonders why the demon is being so kind to him though, but he doesn’t question it, not when it feels so nice. A part of him is still protesting about letting the demon too close, but according to the deal made, Yifan can’t harm him till revenge is served.

Junmyeon sighs again, “It explains a lot, you know. My father was always sketchy about my mom’s absence. He would keep saying mother was the queen’s close friend.” He rubs his face and he is surprised to see his palm wet with tears. He whispers, more to himself than anyone, “I, I watched her die.”

He feels Yifan tightening his hand around him and he feels his mouth on the top of his head as he says, “I would say sorry, but demons don’t entirely understand loss.”

Junmyeon chuckles, a little bitter, as he tilts his head up to say, “At least demons are honest.”

Yifan chuckles back and cups the side of Junmyeon’s face, which makes the latter inhale rather sharply and widen his eyes a little. Yifan’s tapered fingers lightly caress his skin and Junmyeon wants to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling, but that same small voice inside his head wants to push Yifan away. But he feels like he shouldn’t listen to the other voice, not tonight. He tries though, however feeble as he murmurs, “What are you doing…”

Junmyeon sighs and closes his eyes, and in the next moment, he feels Yifan’s lips pressing down on his. He gasps, and his eyes fly open, and the lips are gone. However, Junmyeon recalls the warmth and the firmness, and how the brief touch left his lips tingling. He raises his hand and puts it on his mouth as he says, “What did you do that for?”

Yifan removes his hand and his eyes gleam, “You are irresistible Junmyeon, and I am no angel.”

A shudder passes through Junmyeon’s body and before he can formulate a sentence, Yifan’s lips are on him again and this time, Junmyeon chooses to not question it. So, Yifan kisses him breathless, Yifan’s lips moving sensuously against his, and even though it doesn’t last too long, it is enough to drive away the dark thoughts in Junmyeon’s head. When Yifan pulls back, his eyes are glowing red and Junmyeon gulps. Suddenly, he is not scared of Yifan, but he is scared of himself because he realises he wants more. Inside his mind, a larger part of him finally accepts his attraction to Yifan.

Yifan gets to his feet and says, “You should sleep master, I will see you in the morning. I will take my seat on the chair, you should sleep.”

Junmyeon watches the demon leave with growing confusion and awareness. Yifan takes his seat on the chair as said and Junmyeon feels his heart starting to race and he doesn’t understand why. He lies down and closes his eyes, trying to forget how Yifan felt like on his lips, but he finds it an impossible task, especially when his lips are still tingling, and his body is burning with a heat he never felt.

 

To say that Junmyeon’s life has turned upside down since the day he found the old king of Joseon dying, would be somewhat of an understatement. Since the person who revealed this earth-shattering secret to Junmyeon is already dead and gone, he had very little idea as to where to begin asking the right questions. The assassin they caught could give no answers since he was just paid anonymously to finish the old king and he had no idea as to who hired him, so Yifan killed him quickly. Even Jongin was no help because he had heard such things from elders in the Eulmi movement who on the other hand heard all this in passing from royal maids or servants and easily dismissed it as gossip. Junmyeon wanted to brush it off as rumours as well, but then Yifan disappeared for three days and when he returned with information, Junmyeon had no choice but to accept it: he was the prince of Joseon that Queen Min tried to protect.

When the butler returned after three days, Junmyeon had gone half-crazy in frustration. Yifan had never behaved like this, so this sudden disappearance was suspicious. However, when the demon returned, he returned with things Junmyeon never knew he needed to hear.

Apparently, the rumours were not rumours. The man who Junmyeon called father, Wonsup, was a family friend who let Min a roof to stay under when she realised she was pregnant again. When the queen started to show, she left the palace for fear of getting poisoned again. She gave birth to Junmyeon and his stillborn brother in the house that Junmyeon grew up in. Wonsup offered his help willingly since he was sympathetic of her cause to keep the Japanese away from Joseon, but mostly, loyal to the queen to a fault. He took to telling people that Junmyeon was his child and Junmyeon himself was raised to believe it.

Yifan had to do a lot of digging, but he eventually found a maid from the palace who was supposed to be the queen’s only confidante and after some manipulation (Yifan denies they were death threats), she told him about Min’s second pregnancy. Yifan also tracked down an old servant of Kim Wonsup’s household who confirmed that he always knew who Junmyeon’s mother was and how his silence was brought by Wonsup through promises of buying him his own land and providing education to his children that Wonsup didn’t shirk on.

Next, Yifan also found one of the guards present at Junmyeon’s home that night, who Yifan beat within an inch of his life and he spilled everything: how the lieutenant knew the queen had a double life and how they tracked her for days before ambushing her and killing her. They then took her body back to the palace because the lieutenant didn’t wish to explain her presence in the Andong Kim’s residence because it would have caused unnecessary scandals.

Junmyeon had heard the tale from start to finish in pin-drop silence. A part of him wanted to believe Yifan was lying but under the contract they had agreed on, Yifan is prohibited from lying. So, Junmyeon knows that Yifan is telling the truth. Yifan had arrived with the news with his afternoon tea; Junmyeon picks up the teacup and throws it against the wall. The delicate porcelain crashes against the grey walls and the tea splashes against it, the hot liquid steaming as it drips down the wall. Yifan crooks an eyebrow at the mess and Junmyeon shouts, “Lies! All everyone ever did was lie to me!”

Yifan watches Junmyeon pace the floor with his hands clutched in his hair, and he is heaving. His collar is missing, so is his cravat and the deep flush on his face travels down his neck, tinting his skin a light pink. Yifan is transfixed and he decides he had had enough, he sighs as he grabs Junmyeon by his hand and pulls him to his chest. Junmyeon squawks as he suddenly finds himself pushed against Yifan’s firm chest. He puts his hands on the demon’s shirt and whisper-shouts, his voice sounding feeble, “What are you doing you demon?”

“You are even more enthralling when you are fuming Junmyeon,” Yifan answers as he rubs Junmyeon’s chin. “And I will not lie to you about how much I want you.”

Junmyeon feels his anger slowly seeping out as something else replaces it at Yifan’s low, husky voice and the way the demon’s eyes are like smouldering embers, glowing a warm red, and they are burning right through his soul. Yifan tightens his arm around Junmyeon’s waist, pulling him closer, till Junmyeon is sure the demon can feel the loud thud of his heart beating against his chest. Yifan tilts his head and then his mouth is on Junmyeon’s pulse, his teeth scraping over his skin and Junmyeon shivers.

“I can smell it on you, you know,” Yifan whispers as his other hand curls around Junmyeon’s neck, “The scent of your arousal is addicting.” His teeth tug at the sensitive skin under Junmyeon’s ear and he sucks on it, totally intent on leaving his mark. Junmyeon gasps and his fingers flex on Yifan’s shoulder, and his body takes over his mind, which is still screaming. He throws his head back, giving access to Yifan to plant kisses all along his neck and his hand on Junmyeon’s chest tugs the buttons on his waistcoat.

As soon as the constricting garment is tugged away, Yifan pulls the shirt from Junmyeon’s trouser and places his hand on Junmyeon’s bare skin, which he notes with great satisfaction is smooth and warm and he wants to colour it pretty. Junmyeon keens at the touch and Yifan groans as he slots his mouth against Junmyeon’s slightly quivering ones. The human whimpers when Yifan kisses him with intent, with desire, and Junmyeon closes his eyes, allowing himself to sink in the feeling of Yifan’s lips on his, firm and hot, which is so bad yet so good.

Yifan’s hands roam all over Junmyeon’s body as he licks into the human’s mouth, his tongue curling around his and he sucks on it, eager to taste every corner of Junmyeon’s pretty mouth. Junmyeon’s own hands come up to grab the ends of Yifan’s hair on his nape and he moans when Yifan’s large hands cup his butt, the long fingers squeezing the flesh and pushing him closer, till their crotches brush against each other and they both moan into the kiss.

Yifan has had enough, he needs more, so he picks Junmyeon up, who, on instinct, pulls up his legs to wrap them around Yifan’s waist. Yifan uses his inhuman speed and dexterity as he carries Junmyeon into the bedroom, all the while, never pausing the kiss. However, Yifan allows Junmyeon to take small gulps of air whenever the human needed it. And in these intervals, in between those pauses where Junmyeon would take huge gulps of air, his swollen mouth and his warm breath trying to push in air into his lungs, and his beautiful eyes wide with lust, Yifan could feel his blood boiling with lust, pooling in his groin.

They reach the bedroom and Yifan throws Junmyeon on the bed. Junmyeon bounces on the bed on impact and his breathing becomes heavier when Yifan clothes starts shimmering at the edges and burn off his body. Junmyeon takes a deep breath when he notices the redness in the demon’s eyes, and how he can see the want swirling in them. Yifan, with his quick and deft fingers, disrobes him as well and Junmyeon gasps when he feels the demon’s large hands caressing every inch of his bare skin. Yifan leans over and starts kissing all the scars that mar Junmyeon’s chest.

Yifan’s teeth scrape over Junmyeon’s nipple, which perk up in attention and the former flattens his tongue on it. Junmyeon didn’t expect that, neither did he expect Yifan’s other hand to reach between his legs, lightly stroking his cock. It makes him groan loudly, his back arching off the bed as he clutches Yifan’s neck. He had shut his eyes sometime and when he opens them, he finds Yifan looking down at him. His other hand is still working Junmyeon, getting him to full hardness as he says, “Junmyeon, I think we need to change our deal, ever so slightly.”

Junmyeon’s mind is buzzing with how good Yifan’s hand feel on his cock, so he just nods, not really fathoming what Yifan said. He shuts his eyes again as Yifan’s finger traces his rim. The demon smirks, he knows Junmyeon didn’t hear him and it’s okay, the changed deal won’t hurt him, not impermanently. So, he resumes his exploration of Junmyeon’s body with his mouth and hand.

Junmyeon doesn’t know when it happened, or how it happened, but suddenly he feels all his inhibitions melting at Yifan’s soft lips on his inner thigh and his large, warm hands on his hips. Yifan sinks his teeth into his inner thigh and sucks a mark into it, and Junmyeon chokes on a sob when Yifan’s mouth moves higher and higher till he is lightly mouthing at his cock. The demon pushes a finger inside him, already slick with something that Junmyeon doesn’t understand at first, but then there is another finger edging beside it, and even though it burns, Junmyeon keens at the sensation of Yifan’s long, thick fingers rubbing against his walls, and then, when they push against a certain spot inside him, he moans so loud, he surprises himself. But it feels so good, he can’t help it.

Yifan removes his mouth from Junmyeon’s cock and presses kisses up his chest and Junmyeon mewls. Junmyeon feels like there is a fire burning right under his skin, and the constant way Yifan kept thrusting his fingers in and out of him makes him feel slightly insane, and the need for _more_ itches at him. When Yifan’s head is close to his own, so, Junmyeon grabs him by the neck and kisses him. He traps Yifan’s lower lip between his teeth and sucks on it and Yifan groans, increasing the pace of his fingers. Yifan licks against the top of Junmyeon’s lip, before slipping his tongue in and Junmyeon groans when the kiss gets messier and his hands reach up to find purchase on Yifan’s back.

Junmyeon pushes Yifan closer to him and he feels the demon’s erection rubbing against his abdomen, smearing precum on it. Junmyeon reaches for Yifan’s cock and roughly tugs at it. Yifan tucks his face on the crook of Junmyeon’s neck and groans, his fingers sinking deeper into Junmyeon’s skin and the latter knows there will be serious bruises there tomorrow.

Yifan heaves himself off Junmyeon, putting his weight on his elbows. Junmyeon locks his gaze with the demon’s glowing ones and whispers, “You are going somewhere with this, right?”

Yifan smirks, “My, my, master has such a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” Junmyeon retaliates by increasing the speed of his hand stroking Yifan’s cock. The demon shuts his eyes and moans. He reaches below and curls his fingers around Junmyeon’s wrist. He opens his eyes again and growls, “Enough!”

Junmyeon braces himself as Yifan pulls his hand away and grabs his hips, pulling him down. Then, in one breathless move, Yifan pushes in, and Junmyeon cries at the intrusion. Yifan did something earlier to make the slide easier but it he couldn’t do anything about the sensation of being pushed beyond limits as he thrusts in, filling Junmyeon up in a way he never had been. All the air gets knocked out of Junmyeon’s lungs as he shuts his eyes and his jaw unhinges in a silent gasp.

Yifan halts, allowing Junmyeon and his muscles to get used to his cock. Junmyeon shudders when he feels the demon’s cock, hot and heavy, inside him, just out of reach of his prostate. So, Junmyeon finally whimpers, “Move, do something, _please._ ”

Yifan chuckles, “As my master wishes.” Then he pulls back, till the tip of his cock, before he thrusts back in and Junmyeon moans. His muscles scream in agony, but he likes it, likes the pain that travels up his spine and makes him arch his back off again as another gurgled moan escapes his lips. Yifan picks up a pace that was both satisfying and punishing at the same time, and Junmyeon doesn’t care. He loses bits of his mind as Yifan’s long and thick cock keeps pounding into him, scraping along his walls and ploughing into his prostate over and over and over.

Junmyeon can’t help the sounds escaping his mouth and his throat feels raspy. He feels his own cock lying neglected, throbbing and leaking precum. Junmyeon winds a had down to find some relief when a large hand swats him away and Junmyeon feels Yifan wrapping his fingers around his cock, stroking him hard and fast. Junmyeon knows he is close to his undoing, he can feel it, it’s just out of reach and Yifan understands, because he thrusts harder and faster, his fingers move more violently and Junmyeon feels tears prickling behind his eyes at how good it feels.

Yifan smiles when he realises Junmyeon is close to his orgasm; this is the moment he had been waiting for. He leans forward and kisses Junmyeon, who doesn’t know what is going to come next and eagerly kisses him back. At a rough thrust and a rougher tug, Junmyeon comes undone in his hands, cum spilling out over Yifan’s hand and on his abdomen, and Yifan gasps when he sucks in a bit of Junmyeon’s life force through his mouth. The human can’t see the golden halo around his body, his life throbbing and glowing at the sexual gratification, but Yifan does and he eagerly laps it up, and he groans at how sweet it tastes.

Junmyeon feels the intensity of his climax and he feels it shatter his nerves and cells and he moans when he finds Yifan’s mouth still on him and his hips still snapping into him. On instinct, he tightens his legs around Yifan’s waist and even though he feels tired and sensitive, he wants Yifan to come inside him. And Yifan does after a few thrusts in and Junmyeon groans when he feels the former’s cock pulsating inside him, coating his walls with cum.

Yifan pulls out with a sigh and he gently cups Junmyeon’s face. Junmyeon, meanwhile, finds his eyes nearly closing but he does see Yifan mouth “thank you” to him and he doesn’t get it, and just lets the darkness take him over and he falls to a slumber.

 

When Junmyeon wakes, it is evening and he is naked, but clean and covered with a blanket. He tries to sit up and his body complains as pain shoots up from his spine and when he looks under the covers, he feels his face warming up at the myriad burgundy coloured bruises on his pale skin. He remembers what had transpired between the demon and him; to his surprise, he doesn’t feel ashamed, only embarrassed that he let things go so far, but it was nice. Though, he can’t believe he passed out so fast after sex.

The door to his bedroom creaks open and Junmyeon jumps under the covers. He hears a deep chuckle and he knows it is Yifan, so he peeks out from underneath the blanket, a small frown on his face as he complains, “What did you do to me, you demon?”

Yifan chuckles as he leans over the bed, putting a tray on the bedside table. He sits down and Junmyeon too sits up, the blankets falling to his waist and he shivers slightly when he sees Yifan’s hungry gaze raking over his bare chest and all the bite marks. Yifan leans closer to his face and smiles, “I don’t remember you complaining master.”

Junmyeon turns his head and notices the steaming cup of tea and he points at it, “What is that?”

“Lemon tea,” Yifan says as he moves back, letting Junmyeon some room to breathe. “I found it new in the shops.”

Junmyeon nods, however, he is greatly startled when he finds Yifan’s finger smoothing down his bed hair. Their eyes meet and Junmyeon has to blink a few times at the lazy, satisfied smile on Yifan’s face. Yifan picks the teacup for him and hands it to Junmyeon, who takes it, highly confused by the demon’s behaviour.

Yifan watches Junmyeon blow the steam and take a small sip with a low hum, obviously liking the slightly tangy and sweet taste. He waits for Junmyeon to put down the teacup before speaking, “Do you remember what I said?”

“What you said when?”

“When you were under me?”

Junmyeon frowns as he tries to fight the warmth suffusing his cheeks. “Can you not be so, so…”

Yifan tilts his head and smirks, “So what?” He laughs as he watches Junmyeon’s face become red, but continues, “Master, I said something about changing our deal a little, do you remember? Or was I so good I gave you amnesia?”

Junmyeon groans at the last question, even though he feels a shiver pass through his body at how good Yifan really was. But no, that wasn’t the main question. Vaguely, he remembers something the demon did say regarding their deal, but he can’t recall it, so he shrugs his shoulder. He sees Yifan getting closer and in a hushed whisper, he says, “I am not interested in taking your soul anymore. However, there is something else I can take as payment, and since both of us enjoyed our little activity, I am thinking you will be liking the new terms and conditions as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has to be the most research I have done for a fic and oh lord, was it confusing AF. School or college students in South Korea who study political science or history, kudos to you! But also, as I did research I was so astounded by some things. The events in this fics are largely based on real life, except I have aged up or aged down certain figures and taken a few liberties, but I did not mean any disrespect, except for maybe the old king I killed of because wow he was a twat (kills their unborn grandchild??? dUdE). And Queen fucking Min man, what a badass—she has to be second female historical figure I have come to admire. Anyway, what I encountered during research was how the events that led to Korea’s divide is something that is reflective on contemporary issues, especially the meddling of foreign powers in domestic issues. If you have studied political science for years, I suggest studying Korean politics, it is not covered enough I feel. Well, the modern history nerd in me was too carried away by research at times, and that, with my work, distracted me too much off this fic lol.  
> Also, right now, I am thirsting for a book on Korean modern history, so if any of y’all have any good non-fiction recommendations, please help.  
> Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this fic and I hope I did the prompt justice, even though I might admit I am getting carried away in the political part of this fic rather than focus entirely on the Krisho and honestly, I need to stop taking up prompts like this…:/


	4. October 1897

“Yifan, _ah,_ please, right there,” Junmyeon moans as his hands clutches the sheet tighter and his knees slide some more along the sheet. Yifan’s fingers on his hips grips on to him, tighter too, as he pounds harder and faster into Junmyeon, who cannot help but moan louder as Yifan fills him up with his cock and hits him right where he wants Yifan to.

Yifan had entered Junmyeon’s room with his morning tea and then somehow, they both ended up naked with Junmyeon on his knees and Yifan opening him up with his fingers. The demon is insatiable, and Junmyeon discovered that so is he. Ever since Yifan changed their deal slightly, things have changed between them. Junmyeon has lost count of the times they had ended up on his bed like this.

Junmyeon feels his orgasm coming, so he chokes out, “Yifan, I am close…”

Yifan groans into his shoulder, “Okay, darling.” Yifan flips Junmyeon over and throws the human’s legs over his shoulder, and for a moment, he is transfixed by the way a fucked out Junmyeon looks. Flushed skin, wide, glassy eyes and very inviting, red mouth. He rubs Junmyeon’s lower lip and murmurs, “So perfect.” Junmyeon cries in pleasure as Yifan increases his speed and wraps his hand around his cock, his thumb rubbing the slit, eager to push Junmyeon over the edge. As soon as the first drop of cum spurts out, Yifan leans over to kiss Junmyeon and suck out a bit of his life force.

That is the new deal: Yifan takes part of Junmyeon’s life force, which the human can replenish and since Yifan had lived as an incubus a long time ago, so he knows what he is doing. And sex is the best way to get that from Junmyeon, and it is enjoyable to them both.

Yifan pulls back, he had bit on Junmyeon’s lips a bit too hard and when he licks his own lips, he tastes blood on it. That pushes him close to his climax, and soon Yifan is coming inside Junmyeon, who shudders and chokes on a moan. Yifan slumps over him and pants heavily against his shoulder. Junmyeon wraps his hands around Yifan and tries to force back the air inside his lungs. Yifan finally moves off him and throws him a small smile as he runs his fingers through Junmyeon’s sweaty hair, “Sleep now, I will return with breakfast.”

Junmyeon nods and he already has pulled the blanket over his body by the time Yifan dresses himself. Junmyeon peeks over the blanket and mumbles, “I want eggs.”

“As you wish, master,” Yifan says as he bows out of the room.

Junmyeon hears the door closing and he smiles into the pillow. The demon is insufferable, but he is not bad at what he does, especially when it comes to sex. At first, he was scared of the changed terms of their deal…

_Yifan leans in closer and says, in a whisper, “I am not interested in taking your soul anymore. However, there is something else I can take as payment, and since both of us enjoyed our little activity, I am thinking you will be liking the new terms and conditions as well.”_

_Junmyeon opened his mouth to protest; what is the meaning of all this. But Yifan beats him to it by putting a finger on his mouth. “Hear me out darling. So, demons are adaptable, we can change our forms into anything, whenever we wish. Once, centuries ago, I decided to take the form of an incubus. As delectable as that journey was, I got greedy and bored, so I reverted back to my original form, which is what you see._

_“So, now, I don’t want your soul, I want to consume bits of life force when it is the most delicious.” Yifan leans in closer still and puts his nose under Junmyeon’s jaw, his lips brushing against the latter’s skin, “And goodness, the smell of your sex is amazing. I knew I had to taste it, so I took some from you today.”_

_Junmyeon widens his eyes as his heart pounds. “Is this why I felt so tired when I woke up?”_

_Yifan leans back and smirks, “Yes. Very smart darling.”_

_“So, you don’t want my soul anymore?” Junmyeon asks; he is still not sure this is believable._

_Yifan chuckles, “Yes, I don’t think I want to kill you when having sex with you is much more pleasurable.”_

Junmyeon slides his hand along the numerous bites littering his chest, all courtesy of Yifan. He huffs and turns over, planting his face into the pillow. _Stupid demon_.

 

Yifan is putting the food onto the tray with Ivan’s help when the doors to the kitchen burst open. Both demon and human look up to find Jongin standing there, his mouth agape and his chest heaving as he rasps out, “I need to see Lord Kim! It’s really urgent!”

Yifan raises an eyebrow and judging by how hard Mr Kim’s heart is beating, he can tell the man must have rushed here. He nods his head and instructs Ivan, “Take this to the master’s room and tell him Mr Kim is here.” He turns to look at Jongin and smiles, “Follow me Mr Kim.”

Jongin is ushered into Junmyeon’s office and is offered tea, which he accepts. The butler is quick with the tea and a few minutes later, the lord of the house enters. Jongin scurries to his feet and his eyes are wide as he says, “Gojong is back at the palace! He showed up out of nowhere last night!”

Junmyeon frowns as he sinks into his chair. Yifan hands him a cup of tea and he sips it, his brain whirring. He looks at Yifan only to find the demon already smirking at him; he is sure Yifan has figured out what he is thinking. He turns to Jongin and tells him, “Keep a watch on the palace, and I hope Eulmi doesn’t take any drastic steps. The king knows this will cause a stir.”

Jongin leans forward in his chair, and his voice trembles when he says, “I am hearing that he will side with the Japanese and severe ties officially with China.”

Junmyeon shrugs. “Isn’t that what everyone wants? China to leave Joseon alone?”

“At the cost of what?” Jongin flails his hands, “Changing masters and moving into Japan’s hand?”

Junmyeon shakes his head, “We don’t know that, not yet.”

Jongin leaves soon after and when they are left alone, Junmyeon turns to Yifan, “You know what to do.”

Yifan bows, “Yes, master. I will return before dinner.” With that, Yifan walks out of the room, sending one last smirk at Junmyeon’s direction, who just scoffs.

 

Yifan, as promised, returns before dinner, and with some flourish. The horse-drawn carriage kicks up pebbles and terrorises poor Haechan, who was looking for some autumnal blooms to put on the dining table. Haechan falls on his behind when the carriage roars in, the horse baying like they are possessed. The carriage halts in front of the mansion, a cloud of dust covering it like a mist. Haechan, cowers behind a bush and watches as Yifan drags a man out of it with a jute bag covering his head. The man is wearing rich jewel toned robes that glimmer even in the waning autumn evening light.

Yifan pulls the man up the stairs and Haechan finally releases the breath he was holding. He collects the flowers that had spilled on the ground and sighs as he gets to his feet. He enters the kitchen through the backdoor and finds Ivan and Hyeri busy with dinner preparations. He announces, “Yifan hyung got a guest, but his head is covered in burlap? What is that about?”

Hyeri hikes her skirt up and grabs one of the six small daggers tied to her upper thigh with a holster. Her eyes glint as he says, “Do we need to do something about it, then?”

Ivan too picks up a knife and grins, “Been a while since I slit someone’s throat.”

Jungsuk enters the kitchen and he sighs when he notices the grin and mischievous look in everyone’s eyes. He puts his hands on his hips and chastises, “There will be no murdering tonight. All of you, get back to work!”

Hyeri pouts in disappointment and Ivan mutters some choice curse words in Russian under his breath while Haechan’s shoulders droop in sadness—he hasn’t knocked any teeth out from anybody’s mouth in a long time too.

Meanwhile, Yifan drags the visitor into Junmyeon’s study and pushes him down on a chair. Junmyeon is already in the room, shrouded in the darkness. Yifan turns on the lights and bows, “The king, master, right before dinner as promised.” He closes the distance between him and Junmyeon in a blink of an eye and grabs his neck to kiss him. Yifan presses down firmly, his lips soft yet dominating, leaving Junmyeon with little option but to whimper at the back of his throat and kiss him back.

When breathing becomes difficult, Junmyeon makes a noise and pushes the demon off himself with a glare that holds no power, and whispers, “We are not alone!”

Yifan grins, his eyes glowing red, “He can’t see us master, and I deserve this kiss for capturing the king of Joseon, don’t I?”

Junmyeon licks his lip and sighs, “You can come get your reward later, we have more pressing matters.” The demon even has the audacity to pout, but he does listen and releases Junmyeon, who walks over to the man struggling in the chair. At first, Junmyeon doesn’t understand why Gojong is struggling since he sees no ropes or bindings. But on a closer look, he sees tendrils of reddish smoke swirling around the man’s wrist, ankles and around his waist. He surmises that it is Yifan’s demonic magic at work.

Junmyeon pulls the burlap off the man’s head and he screams, “Let me go! Do you know who I am?”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, “We know, _your highness._ ” Yifan hides a grin behind his hand at the sarcasm dripping in Junmyeon’s voice. “Now, we need some answers, and you have to answer them.”

“Why should I answer?” the man protests, spit flying out of his mouth. The veins on his neck are popping and his face is red, but Junmyeon can only offer him nonchalance. Yifan has melted into the background since he knows Junmyeon has this and the king won’t be a threat not when his magic is binding. “But first, introductions, I am Min’s son, the one she kept hidden, Lord Kim Junmyeon.”

Suddenly, Gojong quiets down and his eyes widen. He starts breathing heavily and his eyes flicker, his nervousness rolling out of him in waves. Then, he mutters, more to himself, “I knew it, I knew she was pregnant…” He looks up at Junmyeon, carefully raking his gaze over him before he slowly says, “But you are not my son, even though you have a claim to the throne.”

Junmyeon waves his hand, “I don’t want the bloody throne. Your bastard child can have it.”

“You are a bastard child too,” Gojong reminds, slightly peeved about the offhand remark about his son.

Junmyeon sighs and pinches his nose. He joined the dots soon enough when he looked at the king, who looked nothing like him, not even a single similarity. Even a fool could tell they were not related. However, he is not that keen to know who his real father is either, “I figured that out you fool. And the identity of my father is not why I kidnapped you.”

Gojong scoffs, “So, why am I here then?”

Junmyeon crosses his arms and starts circling around the king, “You knew my mother was to be killed, didn’t you? I just find it funny how easily and how fast you left the country the moment she died…”

Gojong sighs, “I knew, I did. I overheard my father planning it.” He fights against his bind and shouts, “But believe me, I had nothing to do with it!”

Junmyeon looks at Yifan and raises an eyebrow; the butler says, “He is not lying, master.” Junmyeon turns towards Gojong again and asks, “But you know, don’t you? Who else was involved?”

Gojong narrows his eyes, “I don’t know.”

Yifan sing-songs from somewhere behind Gojong, “He is lying, master.”

Junmyeon dons his best impassive expression and asks again, “Who else was involved?”

Gojong drops his head and murmurs, “Lieutenant Colonel Woo Beomseon.”

Junmyeon inhales and locks his gaze with Yifan, who nods and swiftly puts the burlap sack over Gojong’s head. The king’s muted protests are heard but Junmyeon doesn’t pay attention as Yifan drags the man to his feet and pushes him out of the room. Junmyeon shouts after Yifan, “Come back before midnight!”

Yifan shouts back, “Of course master!”

Woo Beomseon—the name sounded familiar. Junmyeon mulls over it for a while till he remembers; of course, the old king’s favourite general. Of course, the pet would listen to his master and do his bidding, do his dirty job for him. Junmyeon walks around his desk and pulls out the last drawer. His father’s favourite dagger rests there. He grabs it and touches the sharp tip of the silver dagger. Kim Wonsup might have not been his real father, but he was good as any, and tonight he will avenge him. But tonight, he will only avenge his mother, not the assassinated queen of Joseon. He figures _that_ revenge is not entirely personal.

 

Junmyeon waits for Yifan to join him; they are standing outside a small mansion and the clock shows it is now fifteen minutes to one in the morning. He looks up at the dark house in front of him; it almost looks abandoned, except for that one open window with fluttering white curtains giving its inhabitancy away. Word on the street is that everyone involved and suspected in the assassination are currently hiding in fear of Gojong retaliating. Something tells Junmyeon that Gojong is not the factor—it’s the rising dissent among the public and all the funds pouring in for Eulmi, some of which he is contributing as well. Gojong is obviously leaning more towards signing a treaty with the Japanese, and this doesn’t sit right with Jongin of course, but at the end of the day, Junmyeon can’t bring himself to care

He has a demon by his side after all.

Speaking of said demon, Yifan strolls up to him and skips a step ahead of him. He turns around, his eyes glowing red in the dark and he bows, “Shall we, master?”

Junmyeon smiles back puts his hands around Yifan’s neck and the demon lifts him. Yifan jumps once, Junmyeon feels the air whoosh past him for half a second before they land inside the house through that one open window. The room belongs to a young woman’s who wakes up in a fright; she is about to scream when Yifan snaps his fingers and suddenly the girl can’t open her mouth anymore or move her limbs. Junmyeon slides down from Yifan’s arms and smirks at the girl, his finger pressed to his lips.

They walk out of the room, Yifan locks the door from the outside. The demon had already visited the house, checked it all over, so he knows where Beomseon is. They find the bedroom and enter it, Yifan shutting the door behind him. Junmyeon watches the man asleep on the bed, snoring lightly, largely unaware of his end. Junmyeon reaches for Yifan in the dark and Yifan wordlessly hands him the dagger but doesn’t release the handle. When Junmyeon looks over his shoulder in confusion, Yifan asks, “Are you sure Junmyeon? Do you really wish to bloody your hands?”

Junmyeon clenches his jaw and grits out, “I still have nightmares about the night I almost died, so yes, I am not afraid to get my hands bloody. But wake him up will you, I want to kill him while he’s alive.”

Yifan nods, his smirk in place as he proceeds to rouse the man from his sleep. Beomseon wakes up with a jerk and when he sees two strange men in his room, he cries, “What!”

Yifan clamps his hand over Beomseon’s mouth and pulls him out of the bed like he weighs nothing. The older man thrashes in his grip, but it’s not enough to get out of Yifan’s demonic strength. Yifan pushes the man down on a chair and uses his magic to keep him bound to the chair. Yifan also puts along silencing wards so their conversation doesn’t seep out of the room.

Junmyeon flips the dagger as he glares at Beomseon, who is still shouting. Junmyeon raises his hand and hits Beomseon’s face. That stops the older man’s inane cries and gives Junmyeon the pause to ask, “You sent an assassin to kill the old king, didn’t you?”

Beomseon gasps and sputters, “Wha—”

“Don’t even try,” Junmyeon raises his hand again, but this time to quiet the old man. “My butler here is very adept at knowing when humans lie, and he is not very kind if he learns you are lying.”

Beomseon’s eyes bulge out of their sockets when he tuns his head to find said butler, whose eyes are glowing bright red in the semi-darkness of the room. A supernatural fear grips him, and he swallows; he looks back at Junmyeon and mumbles, “How, how did you know…”

Junmyeon shrugs, “It makes sense that you would be the one to send a killer to off the old king. I mean, the old king can expose you and end your entire career, and you rather take the winner’s side and the old king has lost.”

Beomseon hangs his head and sighs, “Yes. But please, you have to understand—”

Junmyeon leans forward all of a sudden and presses the dagger against Beomseon’s throat, who yelps. Junmyeon says, his voice tight, “You didn’t just kill Queen Min that night, you killed my mother."

“The queen’s bastard,” Beomseon whispers.

“Yes, and tonight I have my revenge,” Junmyeon growls as he presses the dagger deeper and pushes it through skin and muscle. He moves his hand quickly and blood gurgles out of the slash on the other man’s neck and some of it spills on Junmyeon’s face. Beomseon makes incoherent noises for a while before his head droops and his final breath passes his lips.

Yifan rushes forward and grabs the dagger from Junmyeon’s hand. Then, he wipes the blood off his master’s face and when Junmyeon looks at him, his eyes slightly befuddled and unfocused, Yifan grins, “That was something.”

Junmyeon grabs the lapel of Yifan’s tailcoat and the immensity of the act he committed sinks in. His lips tremble when he asks, “I am damned to hell, aren’t I?”

Yifan cups his face and shakes his head, “No, you are damned to me.”

 

The winds of change are here, and as Junmyeon stands on the balcony of his mansion, looking down at Haechan and Hyeri play-fighting among the shed autumn leaves, he wonders what will happen next. His revenge is not the one thing on his mind anymore. He has at last learnt that his revenge is not personal, he can’t exact retribution from an entire empire and a political system. Gojong signed the Gwangmu treaty, severing Joseon’s ties with Qing China. Now Joseon will be called the Korean Empire and Gojong will be the imperial head and sovereign. Certain modernisation laws are already on the move and the Eulmi army is still trying to resist, and Junmyeon knows it will take time for them to attain the success they seek, or if any at all.

He looks down at his hands and in his mind, he can still see the blood he shed on them from weeks ago. The new year is looing on the horizon and he is yet to feel the tremors in his soul from taking a life. It was justified, a life for a life. He lost everything that night—his family, his home, his identity. It is only fair a few people like Daewongun and Beomseon had to pay the price for it. He is damned, he always was, he thinks. He hears the doors open behind him and he doesn’t have to look back to know Yifan has joined him on the balcony.

He feels hands wrapping around his waist and small kiss dropped on his nape. Junmyeon smiles, damnation isn’t that awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and phew, we are finally done! Thank you so so much for all the kudos and comments!! And a virtual cookie for all those who figured out it was me!


End file.
